


9am Rule

by clownjizz



Series: Tumblr Drabbles [3]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Bottom Eddie Kaspbrak, Daddy Kink, Dom Richie Tozier, Edging, M/M, Not Beta Read, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sub Eddie Kaspbrak, Top Richie Tozier, i dont know how to write smut so!! this is what you get!!, literally it's just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24784030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clownjizz/pseuds/clownjizz
Summary: Eddie likes sleep. So, he made the 'dont wake me up for sex until after 9am' rule.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Tumblr Drabbles [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1774156
Comments: 11
Kudos: 149





	9am Rule

**Author's Note:**

> Want more bullshit? Hmu on [tumblr](https://sluttheory.tumblr.com/) :)

It was normal to wake up with Richie’s hands on Eddie. Fingers stroking through the short brown curls while Eddie slept with his face pressed to Richie’s throat, or skimming down his spine where they’ve slipped under Eddies sleep shirt, running palm down over his ass and thighs, over his biceps, dragging his nails over Eddie’s soft belly just to watch him twitch.

Today he woke up with Richie’s head on his chest, his dumb hand gliding down the column of his neck, all light and feathery despite the constant roughness of his fingers. They’d go from just under his collarbone and trace a pattern that Eddie just knew had to be some faded hickeys and then deftly brush over the swell of his cheek and then work their way back down just to repeat the process. Eddie grunted when it fell out of pattern, Richie pressing his warm, open palm to the front of Eddie’s neck, no pressure, no request to go any further, nothing but a steady hand absolutely engulfing his throat.

“Rich,” Eddie muttered, he lifted his hand to tuck a loose curl back behind Richie’s ear, watched it fall out of place again, “What’re you doing?”

Richie smiled up at him, “Morning to you too, baby,”

“It’s Saturday, you know the rules,”

“Ah yes, yes, no morning sex before nine am, I know,” his hand flexed and Eddie just barely cracked open an eye to glance at him, “Lucky for me, it’s nine thirty.”

“Shut up.” Eddie shuffled around under Richie’s touch. On top of the consistent hand to his throat and Richie’s head on his chest, they were pressed together nearly every where else, side to side, legs hooked together and everything. He laid with his back to Richie and that was enough invitation for the other to sidle up behind him, made sure his morning wood caught on the cleft of Eddie’s ass.

“Oh you are rock hard, huh?”

“Always am when I’m with you, baby boy,”

Eddie hummed and hid the creeping smile into the crook of his elbow, “Let me guess, nine?”

“Eight fifteen,” Richie sighed while grinding his hips up against Eddie’s damn near perfect ass, which he’d graciously pressed back just a bit, as a tease or not, Richie was thankful. “Tried going back to bed,” he slid his hand up from where it once sat squeezing the soft flesh on Eddie’s hip, he rolled one of Eddie’s nipples between his fingers, made him shiver, “Couldn’t get it outta my head.”

Eddie refused to give in that easily but he did feel bad. Richie suffered from wet dreams. Constantly. It was kind of ridiculous how horny he could he both awake and asleep. Jerking Richie off was basically part of Eddie’s morning routine at this point. “Coulda just rubbed one out… jerked off in the shower or somethin’, Idiot,”

He pinched Eddie’s nipple, hard enough to pull a surprised little yelp from the boy in his arms. Eddie pressed back further into Richie’s cock, slow and sleep heavy but no less sure. “Calling the person who controls whether or not you come an idiot, isn’t really your best bet, baby.” Richie murmured and god, his voice. It wasn’t thick and gravely from just waking up, but there was this confident little draw to it that also showed when Richie was nearing that headspace. After all, brats didn’t listen to people who didn’t make them listen.

“M sorry, Daddy.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Eddie nodded. He reached around him and grabbed Richie’s hip, urged him closer, “I’m so sorry, Daddy.”

Richie laughed softly, his breath fanning across the back of Eddie’s exposed neck and yeah, gross, because morning breath, but Eddie couldn’t bring himself to care about that when Richie is shoving his hand between his thighs, no longer occupied with his nipples, “I don’t think you are, baby,” Eddie’s hips stuttered at the sudden pressure and slowly felt himself filling out in Richie’s old boxers, “I think you’re being a little brat. I think we should change the rule… I’ve been laying here, being so nice and letting my baby boy sleep, while I’m aching to get your pretty little mouth on me, and as soon as you finally wake up, you’re being mean.”

“Sucks to suck, doesn’t it?” And oh, that’s a hand on his throat, the one that was wedged between Eddie’s weight and the mattress moved up quickly, caught him by surprise and yelped softly as the fingers dug lightly into the sides of his throat. If there’s one thing for sure that can certifiably yank him into subspace, it’s that; Richie’s hands. On his body. Reacting directly in response to the way he acted. Squeeze his hip and stroke his ass when he’s good. Slap and choke him when he’s not.

Richie laughed again, “Oh, did my baby not like that?” It was teasing but also genuine if the way Richie’s grip let up to just a barely there touch along his skin.

Eddie liked the choking.

Richie was still a little hesitant to completely initiate it without getting permission.

So he brought both of his own hands up and coiled them around Richie’s to build the pressure back up, more than what was there before. Eddie could feel the way Richie smiled into his hair while moving his hand from Eddie’s thigh to the elastic of the boxers, a plan obviously in mind.

Richie moved his hand, slipped it beneath the waist band and trailed his fingers slowly through the small patch of hair right below his naval and just barely brushed over his mostly hard cock.

“Cmon,” he whined, tried to cant his hips up to get Richie’s hand on him.

He tutted, squeezed his fingers against the sides of Eddie’s throat, “You can either be a good boy for me and ask nicely, or you can wait even longer before you come. Pick one.”

“Please, Rich… Jus’ touch me.” His voice was a little rough but that didn’t hinder him in the slightest, “Want you to touch me,”

“I bet you do, baby,” so he did, firmly grabbed him and stroked until he was fully hard and was letting out these strangled little moans, hips stuttering up into his hand. Eddie gripped Richie’s forearm when he felt his head go fuzzy, all tingly in it’s sudden lack of oxygen, but god did it feel good. “You’re always so fucking wet,” Richie crooned before sweeping his thumb over the flushed tip of his cock to spread around the thick drop of precome. “All desperate. Aren’t you, baby boy?”

Richie kept stroking, flicking his wrist just right and squeezing particularly hard at Eddie’s throat when Eddie gasped something along the lines of “gonna come” and then pulled his hand from the boxers completely. “Oh you’re definitely not, baby,” He laughed, kissed the side of Eddie’s face in an unbearably sweet manner despite the thin sheen of sweat and flush covering his cheeks. “When do you get to come?”

Heat simmered low in Eddie’s abdomen, strong and overbearing and he wanted to reach down and palm himself through the boxers. Ten seconds. That’s all he’d need. Ten seconds, max, just to push him over the edge. He must’ve started moving unintentionally because Richie’s hand darted over, snatched it and slammed it back onto the mattress. “I don’t fucking think so. Answer the question, Eds, when do you get to come?”

Eddie whined. He tilted his head back and pouted just to see if it would work, even though it almost never did. When Richie arched a brow and rolled his hips up against his ass, he finally answered. “When you say I can,” he whispered. Not that he had a problem becoming all submissive and abiding to Richie’s every word, but he knew the sooner he gave in, the sooner he’d get to come and that’s all he could really think about; his mind a constant rerun of “I need to come”, “Touch me” and “I love you”.

“That’s right baby,” Richie stroked his wrist with his thumb, “Daddy decides when you get to come. Or If. Because you had a smart mouth not too long ago, doll, I don’t know if I want to let you. Do you think you deserve it?”

Eddie nodded frantically, “Please, please, I promise-“

“What, you promise you’ll be good?” Once again Eddie started to nod. Richie’s hand moved from Eddie’s wrist over to his hip, holding him with a bruising grip, “You had the chance, and you know what you did? You decided to be a brat- like fucking always. So here’s whats going to happen,”

By the time Richie’s hand was sliding back over his dripping cock, above the fabric of the boxers to palm at the length, just spreading the sticky liquid without care, “You’re gonna be a good boy for me, and tell me when you need to come, and then, you might get to, if I think you deserve it.”

Four times. Four fucking times, Richie worked him up to the point of being a squirming, whining, begging mess, his whole body thrumming with the need for that release, and then left him hanging. He did his best to listen, would pant out an “im close” whenever his muscles would go overly taut and his toes curled and then Richie would tell him to shut up and pull his hand away and leave him to stew in his own arousal while being seconds away from breaking. After the second time, Richie just started to shove his precome slick fingers into Eddie’s mouth to keep him occupied and quiet while Richie would kiss down his neck, over his shoulders.

“You’ve been surprisingly good… think you deserve to come yet, baby boy?”

“Please, please- oh my god, please, Rich, Daddy-“

Richie hummed against his throat, and yeah, he was still achingly hard, to the point it damn near hurt, grinding against Eddie’s pert ass but not getting enough friction to actually come, but watching Eddie fall apart under his hands was better than just jerking himself off. “I guess… But the thought of you like this, all hard and wet, just laying here, only getting off because I’m touching you… sounds like a nice Saturday to me.”

Eddie whimpered, high and needy and desperate when Richie started to slowly stroke his cock, entirely slick with mix of his own spit from sucking on Richie’s fingers and the pools of precome he was dripping. He stopped being able to put together full sentences two almost orgasms ago. “Okay. Only because that noise was just so fucking pretty, baby. God ahead and come for me, sweetheart.” He nodded and then his back arched from the sheets, finally, finally, coming in thick ropes across Richie’s fist and over his own sweaty stomach. It was intense and Eddie is almost completely sure that he whitted out, because one moment he was wrapped up in Richie’s arms, the next Richie was kneeling at the side of the bed wiping off his stomach with a washcloth.

“Stop, lemme-“ he pushed Richie’s hand away and raised onto his elbows, “You didn’t come, let me suck you off or somethin’.”

“That’s cute.” Richie splayed his hand on Eddie’s chest and shoved him back down, “I came in my fucking sweatpants like a teenager, don’t worry about it… you good?”

“Mhm… that was… yeah.”

“And you’re the english major. Okay.”


End file.
